


Evasion

by gammathetaalpha



Series: Identity [1]
Category: Avengers, Spider-Man - Fandom
Genre: A.I OC, Canon Romance, F/M, No Slash, Spider-Man vs. Avengers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-23 08:30:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9648116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gammathetaalpha/pseuds/gammathetaalpha
Summary: Determination is a powerful fuel. It can drive people to do what no one else will do, and what no one else can do. It can give those the ability to defeat even gods. Peter Parker experiences this first hand when the most powerful heroes on the planet try to find his identity.





	1. Chapter 1

“Spider-Man?” Tony repeated incredulously, eyes narrowing at Nick Fury, pure disbelief lining his features. The director stood at the head of the conference table, glaring back at the self-obsessed billionaire. Surrounding him were the rest of the Avengers, none of them looking too happy. Steve Rogers face was sceptical, Thor unhappy, and even Clint and Natasha seemed disapproving, though it was hard to be certain through their usual blank looks. 

Bruce knew his own face was irritated. He’d been dragged along by Tony to a meeting at SHIELD HQ, at ten o'clock at night, without dinner. It meant the… Other Guy was more likely to make an appearance, especially with the added stress of Tony and Captain Rogers in the same room. 

The Hulk roared his approval inside his mind, sending images of green-tinged piles of rubble. Bruce tapped the edge of his swivel chair nervously, staring down at the papers in front of him. ‘Project Web-Slinger’, the bold title read. It was followed by the familiar level seven clearance label, typed in a threatening mauve ink. 

Below it, was all the information they had about Spider-Man. Incidents, reports, article, witnesses, and descriptions. The pile of papers was thick, a seemingly endless amount of information. But it was lacking. Nowhere, in the pile, was there any information about Spider-Man’s real identity. What lay beneath the mask was pure speculation.

Bruce supposed that was why Fury wanted the hero hunted down. SHIELD didn’t like variables, and Spider-Man was just that. But labelling him an armed, top priority threat? It seemed a little extreme. The rest of the team had had a few run-ins with the guy, and spoke of him favourably. Spider-Man had saved the city multiple times, times when the Avengers had been too slow, or hadn’t deemed the enemy a threat. Bruce knew they all felt a bit guilty for that. The vigilante had never done anything to suggest himself a villain, which was why Fury’s new mission seemed… Wrong. They were in charge of getting the bad guys, not the ones that saved lives daily. 

“Yes. I said Spider-Man,” Fury responded, delivering each person in the room an intense look. “I don’t want any of your sass, Stark. This is a mission, and you are going to get your backside on it right away, like it, or not.” 

“Oh no, I have no problems with hunting down Spidey. The little bugger’s been on my to-do list for a long time. But what does SHIELD want with a pint-sized, freelancing arachnid that catches minor criminals while wearing spandex?” 

Steve spoke up. 

“With all due respect sir, what puts him on SHIELD’s radar? I think what he does is rather admirable.” 

“Admirable or no, there is too much unmeasured power in one person’s hands. If he becomes a threat, it's better to know now how to take him out, than when he’s making Stuttgart, Germany bow before him.” 

There were a few visible winces at the reference to Loki’s attack on Earth. The Other Guy rumbled menacingly, echoing Bruce’s thoughts. Even though he didn’t like the idea of bringing Spider-Man in for questioning, Fury made a valid point. If Spider-Man ever became a threat…

_Smash him!_ The Hulk bellowed. 

“I understand your reasoning behind that, sir,” Steve said hesitantly. “But shouldn’t he be allowed to keep a secret identity if he wants to?” 

“Captain Rogers, if you had had on file the identity and personal history of the Red Skull before you started hunting him, would more people have survived? Would you have been able to stop his attacks in a faster time?”

“Well… Yes.” 

“That’s why I need my team to bring in Spider-Man. Any more questions, or can I get on with explaining the mission?” 

Bruce spoke up, knowing if he didn’t ask the question, somebody else on the team would find out, and not in a way that would make Fury happy. 

“What do you plan to do with Spider-Man?” 

The director’s glare deepened. Bruce backtracked hurriedly. 

“I mean, you’re not planning on experimenting on him or anything, right?” 

He hoped the director’s answer would be a negative. The Other Guy’s anger was already beating against the scientist’s will. He didn’t need an excuse to… Release it. 

“Spider-Man will be brought into SHIELD, and will be let go. What I choose to do with him during that time is my business.’ 

Bruce slowly stood up, clenching the table so hard his fingers whitened. His heart rate sped up. SHIELD and their half-thought out plans never worked out well for anybody.

“However,” Fury continued. “We will not be trying any backside-thought-out projects on the Spider. I know as well as you do, Dr. Banner, that those never turn out well.”

“Sit down, Dr. Banner,” Natasha spoke from the other end of the conference table. Bruce did so, taking a deep breath as he did. 

“Can I continue?” Nobody said anything else. “Good. Now here’s the plan.” 

Inwardly sighing, Bruce forced himself to relax in his chair, listening carefully to Fury’s instruction. Spider-Man. He didn’t seem like the type of person to go without a fight. And from what Bruce had seen, it was sure to be a good one. 

The other Avengers didn’t seem to think so. Fury shut his briefcase with a loud snap. He strode out of the room, the door slamming shut with a resounding bang. The rest of the team followed, tense silence giving way to lighthearted bantering as they walked. As they left SHIELD HQ, they laughed and talked, dismissing the vigilante as an amateur. Bruce wasn’t so sure. Underestimating him was a fatal mistake. 

But what did he know? If even professional Natasha thought this was to be an easy attack, then who was he to tell them otherwise? 

Either way, the events of the next few weeks were sure to be... interesting. Unfortunately for Bruce, interesting was not a good thing. 

 

It was dark. An inky blackness, wrapping snugly around him, swallowing his hands and feet as he let them dangle off the edge of the building. It smothered the surface below him, and the assortment of boats rocking gently on the water, the soft lap, lap of the waves soothing ears that heard every little noise. It was almost a deafening blackness compared to the blinding fluorescents of the city. He could only barely make out the silvery-greyish sheen of the ocean below, the midnight coloured water camouflaging with the cloud-covered night sky. 

Peter breathed in the salty, polluted air. When he’d first become Spider-Man, his senses had been overwhelmed by the sounds, the sights, and the smells. But it had only taken minutes for his mind to adjust. Now, he observed everything at a lighting-fast pace. It was like watching five different TV shows at once, and understanding everything going on without any effort. He remembered things better too, every tiny detail...

The widening of her eyes, the terror in a soundless scream, falling farther and farther and farther… Diving after her, her name on his lips, a last string of hope, his web, shooting down to catch her. But with a sickening thud, her body hitting cement, and alive eyes fading into lifeless eyes. The ba-bump of her heart suddenly silenced, the gentle disturbance of her breath cut off. He lands beside her with a strangled word.

“Gwen!” 

His planet, his world, his light, and his hope, was gone in a single devastating moment, with a single devastating blow. 

As time passed on, he realised his world may have been gone, but remnants of it were found in everything. Everywhere Peter went, there were the ghosts of the dead whispering in his ears, giving him advice, comforting him when he was hurt. Everywhere he went, she was there, her eyes so alive, so very alive.

A muffled scream brought Peter out of his musings. With a sigh, he turned around, facing the shining city behind his back. Feet whispered against the cold cement as he sprinted in the direction of the sound. 

Suddenly there was no longer a solid surface underneath Spider-Man’s feet. With a mad grin, he twisted into a dive, air rushing past him, chilling his bones. The ground grew closer. A thin strand of pale web shot out, landing against another building with a satisfying thunk. Peter let it lead him. Just when it seemed he would be bashed against the tower, he yanked upwards, momentum sending him tumbling onto the roof. 

Below him was an alleyway, the pungent stench of garbage and beer wafting upwards. The light from the street seemed to create more shadows than illumination. A group of hulking men surrounded a younger woman, their laughter menacing. 

Swiftly, Spider-Men sent strands of web, pinning two of the men to the wall before they could even blink. 

“Now, that’s not nice.”

The other three spun around, guns poised. When they saw who it was, any anger disappeared. It was replaced with fear. Inwardly, Peter smirked. His reputation preceded him.

“Listen up, buddies. Drop the guns, everything goes a bit smoother. I don’t have to waste energy dodging pointless attacks, you don’t end up with unnecessary bruises, and these nice walls don’t end up with bullet holes.”

“And what gives you the right to play cop?” One of them spat. 

“No, no no. You got it wrong. The question is, who gives you the right to not shower in a week? Because seriously, I can smell you guys from over here. It’s the smell of…”

Spider-Man paused.

“Failure.”

There’s a thwip thwip thwip, and the other three criminals are pinned, faces a mixture of fury and embarrassment. He jumps to the ground below, turning towards their victim. 

The young women has tears streaming down her face. Her body shakes uncontrollably. She clutches a worn backpack against her chest, holding it like her life depends upon it. Spider-Man gently holds out a hand. 

“Hey now, you’re okay. They didn’t rough you up too badly, right?” 

She swiftly shakes her head no.

“What’re you doing out in these parts? Bit late.”

She angrily glared at him.

“That’s not your business.”

“What, not even a thank you? Okay, that’s fine. Stay out of the shadows next time. Now, let me just-” 

‘Thwick-thwick-thwick-thwick-thwick.’ 

The villains shouts of protest were muffled by webbing. 

“Okay, you guys just sit tight. I’ll be sure to get the police over here, give them a call.”

Peter made his tone turn menacing. 

“Or not.”

With that threat hanging in the air, he sprung up, landing on the top of the building with a soft thump and a satisfied grin. He’d leave an anonymous tip for the coppers. 

The police radio on his side crackled to life. Spider-Man looked down, grin falling off his face. 

“Seriously? Can’t you guys just take a break? I’ve got homework.” 

Actually, he did have homework. It was two months into his junior year, and Peter was already hearing complaints from teachers. A messy pile of unfinished essays and projects rested on his desk. 

But that didn’t matter. Saving lives was more important than any workbook problem. He probably couldn’t do much homework anyway. It was too easy for his mind to divert, and focus on other things. 

Loneliness. Fear. Regret. 

Peter brushed the thoughts away, focusing instead on the voice coming from the police radio.

“...Armed robbery, south of 19th Street. Five men sighted so far, two getaway vans leaving the bank now. We need backup at the bank and after the vans…” 

He didn’t wait for it to finish. Spider-Man dove down into the jungle of concrete skyscrapers and gleaming lights, swinging over the metal sea of cars, his red and blue figure a blurred reflection on the empty eyes of darkened, unseeing windows. 

Peter Parker’s world may have crumbled. The ones he was closest to might have perished. But his loneliness and his guilt had created a determination to do the right thing because he could. 

Nobody was going to stop him. 

 

 

_You can’t stop rock and roll! You can’t stop rock and roll!_  
_Don't you play me no jive_  
_A bit of fun on the side_  
_Too much crap make you blind_  
_So don't give me no._

The volume of the music lowered, and Jarvis’s bland voice took its place. 

“Sir, there’s been a Spider-Man sighting at a bank south of 19th Street.”

Tony Stark turned off the solderer in his hand, resting it in its cradle. “Thanks Jarvis. Alert the team.”

The plan was fairly simple. They’d wait for Spider-Man to appear, and Tony along with Natasha would confront him, politely inviting the vigilante to come with them for the interrogation. 

_Don't you give me no_  
_Don't you give me no_  
_Don't you give me no whine_

If Spider-Man refused, they’d have to take him by force. The team had set up a perimeter should he decide to flee, with Captain America guarding from a distance away, Clint acting as Hawkeye from above, and Tony and Natasha engaging combat at the scene. Bruce was back in Avengers tower, monitoring the entire situation via cameras put on each of the Avengers. The cameras were similar to GoPro’s, but with a little more Stark style. With everyone working together, the team would be undefeatable. 

_You can't stop rock 'n' roll_  
_You can't stop rock 'n' roll_  
_You can't stop rock 'n' roll_  
_You can't stop rock 'n' roll_  
_I said, ah ah ah_  
_Ah ah ah_  
_Ah ah ah_

“Sir, the team is gathered outside, ready for action. Dr. Banner has taken his position at the computer center in his lab, and all comms are online, except for yours.” 

“Sounds good. Tell them I’ll be down in a minute.” 

“Very well sir.” 

Tony picked up the box of Stark POV’s, each black, rectangular camera resting royally on red velvet. They were relatively simple as far as the camera part went, but built to be indestructible, and send live footage to any devices hooked to Stark’s private server. Tony was rather proud of them, due to the fact he’d created them barely six hours after the meeting with Fury, and had had the prototype completely finished soon after that. 

This was part of their backup plan, should something go wrong and Spider-Man get away. The footage of the vigilante could be analysed. Jarvis could scan all photos and pictures of people in New York for a match in height and size. 

But nothing was going to go wrong because Iron Man was involved, and with him the best super-heroes on the planet. There was no way one little spider could beat them. 

 

_You can't stop rock 'n' roll_  
_You can't stop rock 'n' roll_  
_You can't stop rock 'n' roll_  
_You can't stop rock 'n' roll_  
_Listen up...._  
_Ah ah ah_  
_Ah ah ah_  
_You can't stop rock 'n' roll_  
_You can't stop rock 'n' roll_  
_I said you can't stop rock 'n' roll_  
_You can't stop rock 'n' roll_

As the ACDC song came to a close, Tony Stark left his lab, his suit assembling around him. The commlink came online, filling his ears with the voices of the other Avengers.

“Hey guys. Let me drop off a little gift, and we’ll get this show on the road.” 

“You remember the plan, Stark?” 

Tony rolled his eyes at Steve’s chiding tone. He wasn't three.

“Yeah yeah. I’m fine. How about you? Your old man memory holding up?” 

“Keep quiet, boys,” Natasha demanded. “Tony, drop off the cameras and let's get over to the scene. Spider-Man tends to disappear right after a fight. We don’t want to lose him.” 

“I’m coming down.”

“Good. Dr. Banner, do we still have a positive on the whereabouts of Spider-Man?”

“Yes, though the fight is almost over. You’ll want to hurry.”

“I prefer to be fashionably late.” But Tony flew down to the cluster of heroes on the sidewalk. The group was unusually relaxed for a mission, even Clint. Usually Thor was the only one who could still laugh. Thor however, was back in Asgard as of three hours ago, for some “essential court affairs”, whatever that meant. 

The Stark POV’s were passed to each member. Natasha hoisted herself up onto the Iron Man suit, using some type of scarf to help secure her. They flew towards 19th Street, city passing beneath them. 

It was time to meet Spider-Man. 

 

 

It was just your average, every-day armed bank robbery. Though technically, any bank robbery, armed or no, wouldn’t be very average. Unless you’re a cop. Or Spider-Man. 

Which for Peter, was obviously the case. 

It had gone almost exactly like previous bank robberies. There were criminals, Spidey covered them in web, threw out some verbal taunts, and left the scene. 

Except, just as he was leaving, Iron Man came to chat. 

He’d heard him coming from a mile off. His repulsors made a distinctive sound, a steady roar that sounded like a cross between a motorcycle and an air-conditioner. As the sound got closer, it became loud enough to drown out voices. The noise was loud for regular ears to pick it up; for Peter Parker, the high pitched whine combined with the low rumble made him want to glue his ears shut. 

There was a smell, too. The smell was faint, probably only distinguishable to his nose, but it was relatively disgusting, a pungent mix between rotten eggs and gasoline. 

Those things and Iron Man’s characteristically shiny suit made his approach obvious. Peter had seen the show-off flying around plenty of times before. The massive, shining suit letting off white rays of light from the repulsors. It was hard to miss. 

The small figure grew steadily closer to Peter’s location. With a curious frown, he dropped into a dark alley behind the bank, hugging the shadows. Overhead, the roar of repulsors grew closer. There was a thump as heavy metal boots landed on the apartment complex. 

“Darnit Tony, we’ve lost him. Why’d you take so long getting over here?” 

The feminine voice was unfamiliar. Peter’s frown deepened at her words. Lost who?

“Hey, style takes time. And don’t blame it on me. Spider-Man’s the one who booked it out of here.”

_They’re looking for me?_

What did Tony Stark want with his friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man? He hadn’t done anything wrong. 

A tiny, faint voice spoke next, like it came through some kind of bluetooth earpiece. Even his enhanced ears strained to hear it.

“Just get back here, Stark.” 

Peter’s eyes widened. Captain America?

“Yeah yeah, I’m coming. Hop on, Ninja Girl.”

“Call me that again and I will remove your teeth one by one, with a staple gun.” The voice was creepily matter of fact. 

“Not in my armour you won’t.” There was silence for a moment. “Then again, it’s probably not wise to give you a challenge. Okay, fine. No more Ninja Girl.”

“Wait.” There was another voice coming from Nat’s earpiece, this one softer. It seemed hesitant, like whoever it was didn’t like talking, or socialising in general.

“Tony, try scanning for nearby life forms. Spider-Man’s heat signature might be unique if he has enhanced biology.”

Uh oh.

Actually, Peter did. His temperature ran around ninety-four degrees. 

He glanced around furtively. There was no easy escape from the alleyway, without being in full display of Iron Man. He could confront him, but seriously. Iron Man. The guy had been Peter’s hero for a good amount of his child-hood. He was also smart and could probably figure out his identity.

Oh. 

Peter gave a short, dark laugh.They were after his identity. Of course they were. Everybody was after his identity, even other super-heroes with their own secret identity. 

It would be best to leave a lasting impression and get them off his back.

“Jarvis, scan for nearby life forms with unusual heat signatures.”

That was Spider-Man’s cue. 

“Don’t bother Tin Man, I’m right here.”


	2. Chapter 2

Bruce Banner watched the wide computer display in disbelief as a lithe, muscled figure formed from the shadows surrounding the building. Tony took a step back and Natasha stiffened. Spider-Man gracefully stepped into the light, his movements relaxed and his posture casual. 

“Now why does your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man deserve a visit from Iron Man? I thought you only bothered with the big league stuff.” 

“What did you call my suit? A tin can? Bit thick, coming from the guy in spandex.” Tony sounded offended. Bruce winced. This was not going as planned.

“Hey, don't diss the spandex. And it’s not even spandex, but that’s not important. What do you want?”

Natasha spoke up.

“We’d like you to come with us, to answer some questions.” 

Spider-Man’s tone was falsely innocent. “Questions about what?” The innocent tone was dropped. “Oh wait, I’ve got it! My identity! Seriously, does nobody get the point of the mask? You’d think I’d be allowed to save lives without my rights being violated.”

“Your rights are not what is at stake here. All information of your identity will be kept out of the public’s eye. The safety of the world, however, is questionable, since we know nothing about you.” 

“Look, if I wanted to hurt people, I wouldn’t go around saving them. That’s not how it works.”

“Spidey, save everybody the trouble and come with us. We’re trying to help here.”

Spider-Man’s gaze redirected towards Iron Man. 

“You couldn’t keep your own identity secret. I’m not going to trust you with mine.”

“Last chance, Spider-Man. Come with us, or we make you.” Bruce knew Natasha was an intimidating sight, her straight back and still posture making her seem twice her actual size. Her eyes, with their ferocity, were directed towards the vigilante. Bruce felt sorry for him. He didn’t want to be taken captive, but with the Avengers against him, all he could do was put up a fight and hope it was a good one. 

At the thought of the word captive, the Hulk snarled, causing Bruce to clutch the table in sudden pain. That’s why he missed the sudden move. 

He’d barely blinked, and two of the Stark POV cameras were covered in a greyish substance. There were muffled shouts from Tony and Natasha. 

“Captain, go,” Bruce said urgently. He gripped the table harder. Inside his head, the Hulk was roaring angrily, battering itself against Bruce’s will. 

_SMASH THEM! SMASH THE MEAN PEOPLE._

He wasn’t talking about Spider-Man. 

Bruce forced himself to ignore the blind rage coming off in waves. It was important to have Spider-Man evaluated-

_CAPTURED! LOCKED IN!_

-for the safety of the people-

_KILLERS! MURDERERS! JUST AS BAD!_

-s-so they wouldn’t- 

_LET THEM! LET ME!_

-d-d-die.

_HULK WILL SMASH!!_

No. The Hulk wouldn’t smash. Smashing would hurt people, or even kill them. Bruce was not a murderer.

_HULK SMASH!_

But it was so hard to control the anger, and do what was right. The voice was yelling loudly, drowning out Bruce’s thoughts. Drowning out Bruce’s control. It was a battle he fought constantly, every waking second, all the time, because the Hulk forced him to spend every second awake. 

He felt the ripping of clothing as soft, human flesh made way into green, massive bulging Hulk. His tiny conscience was shoved in the back corner as a blinding sea of anger washed over his mind. 

No. No. He couldn’t Hulk out. It would hurt people. It would hurt lots of people. He was in New York, in Stark’s tower. There were people everywhere, in close proximity. They were in a big city, still suffering from the damage of the Chitauri attack. The last thing they needed was the Hulk.

Bruce managed to wrestle the slightest bit of control, forcing the strongest of monsters back. Teeth clenched, he focused on the screens, fighting the Hulk back all the while. 

Captain Roger’s was running so fast the streets around him blurred. Ahead, there was a speck of red, growing steadily closer. Spider-Man. The red speck suddenly disappeared around a corner. With a frustrated huff, Steve sped up, rounding the corner Spider-Man had disappeared behind. 

It was a dead-end alleyway, dark. Steve entered it cautiously, shield at ready. 

The attack came so quickly, Bruce was barely able to follow it. A lethal strand of web shot over Steve’s head, Spider-Man using it to swing down. There was a red and blue shimmer as the Captain America shield spun like a frisbee, slicing through the web, and lodging itself in a wall. 

Spider-Man tumbled through the air for a brief second, before launching himself straight at Captain Rogers. Steve stumbled backwards at the force and tried to detach himself from the vigilante. They struggled to gain the upper hand, Steve’s hands holding Spider-Man’s arms in place. Bruce watched in a morbid fascination. Both’s biology seemed to be so evenly matched that they were at a standstill.

“Just one question,” Spider-Man panted the words out between gasps for air. “Why do you still wear the leotard?” 

“The same reason you wear the onesie?” Was Steve’s response.

“To look cool?” 

“I guess not then.” 

There was a few minutes of rough breathing. Then,

“Is it so you can look like the American flag?” 

“Why are we having this conversation?”

“Just answer the question!” 

“I had no say in the making of my costume.”

“So is that,” _huff, huff,_ “a yes?” 

Captain Rogers did not answer the question. Bruce had the feeling he was irritated. 

“I’m” _huff,_ “taking that” _huff,_ “as a yes.” 

And suddenly Spider-Man was no longer fighting for control. The vigilante disappeared out of the camera view, only to appear again, streams of web flying around like silly-string. 

_Thwick thwick thwick thwick_

The sound was constant, accompanying Spider-Man’s constant jabs. 

“I’m just going to hang you up over there. You know, like the American flag. That probably came out weird.”

“Clint, get over to the scene,” Bruce said urgently. 

“I’m on my way,” Clint responded. 

“Good. Natasha and Tony, where are you?” 

“I am going to blast that bug out of the sky.” Tony muttered. 

“SHIELD wants him alive,” Bruce reminded. 

Natasha’s response was more composed. 

“We’re heading in that direction currently.” 

“Good. Steve needs help.”

Bruce looked back at the screen. Indeed, Steve was currently struggling to tear apart the webs that wrapped around him. He had managed to get his shield back and had it hooked inconveniently under his arm. Every time another web was unwrapped, another one seemed to take its place. 

“Look, I know I’m known for taking things lightly, and joking a lot, but this is not funny, you understand? There are people I’m trying to protect, and lives I’m trying to save.”

_Thwip thwip thwip._

“You share a secret with one person, you share it with the world. You let people in on what you do, they die.” Spider-Man’s voice cracked at the last word. “You like saving lives? You like justice and truth? Then leave me be.” 

“I don’t think so.” 

Iron Man appeared at the front of the street, his eyes the only visible feature of his metal suit. On both sides of the alleyway, Strike Team Delta flanked him, weapons pointed. Steve pulled the last of the webbing off of his body, and held up his shield, the star at ready. 

“Seriously? What’s your problem? I haven’t done anything wrong.” The vigilante’s tone was furious. 

Natasha, diplomatic as ever, replied. 

“It is our responsibility to make sure all persons exhibiting supernatural powers are analysed, should they ever become a threat.” 

“Also, does anybody else find the jabs annoying? Cap, I know you’re with me on that one.” 

Steve’s glare was stern.

“Enough Tony. Spider-Man, I am sorry, but it is our duty to take you in.”

The Avengers met each briefly met each other’s eyes and reached some unspoken agreement. Captain Rogers gave a nod.

“Avengers attack.”

And chaos reigned.


	3. Chapter 3

They were the good guys. That was what left Peter absolutely stunned; the fact that the good guys were the ones surrounding him, attempting to capture him, causing him pain. 

Their attack was chaos, maddening and unmeasurable, a fight like Peter had never experienced before. Iron Man’s repulsors were precise and deadly, each tranquilliser beam firing at a pace almost too rapid to dodge. Captain America and the woman who had originally been with Iron Man rushed at him, the famous star shield clutched in a skilled soldier’s hands. The last man had disappeared. That made Peter more concerned than relieved. 

His body leaped and spun, kicked and punched, flipped and rolled. Steve came in for a punch, which he dodged, only for Peter to be solidly kicked by the woman. Peter clenched his teeth in pain as blood began seeping through his nose. It flowed in little streams over his lips and down his chin. 

He spun around, and punched her in the stomach. His Spidey-sense roared. Peter dove to the ground, just in time for Captain America’s shield to whizz by his head. 

This wasn't working. Peter would not be able to keep up the pace for long. Captain America and the woman worked as a team, and a super-powered team at that. He needed to take one of them down. 

“So, what's your name?” 

It was shouted in the direction of the woman, as he dodged multiple blows from Captain America. Peter already knew her name was Natasha, from the conversation he’d eavesdropped on earlier, but surely she had some kind of title that would hint at her skill-set. 

She responded with a glare. Peter mockingly put his hands up, then leaped out of the way of a repulsor blast.

“Hey, I'd just like to know who's trying to brutally murder the perfectly innocent vigilante.”

“They call me the Black Widow.” 

Peter dodged her flying kick. 

“Seriously? That's kinda hilarious.” 

It wasn't, but he couldn't think of a witty response right now.

“Hey bug man, can you stop excluding people from your conversation?” Iron Man seemed irritated. 

He didn't reply. A volley of arrows had suddenly rained down upon him.

What the h-

A fiery pain flared in the side of his calf. Spider-Man spared a glance down. There was an arrow protruding from his leg. Both the Black Widow and Captain America leaped at him. Captain America missed, but the Black Widow didn't, wrapping her legs around his neck. 

He choked, little red spots decorating his blurred vision. Bruises formed around his neck, blocking up his airway. 

“S-stop,” He gasped. She only squeezed tighter. 

Suddenly, hands grasped his mask, slowly inching it off his face. Peter clawed at the hands, everything in him screaming NO! 

Gwen’s lifeless face came back to him in startling high definition. She was dead because she knew who he was. She was dead because other people knew who he was.

They might have very well been super-heroes, and the most powerful people on the planet. Tony Stark might be rich, and Captain America a World War Two hero, and their two companions some kind of sick ninjas, but he was Peter Parker, and he still had one more relative to protect. He would protect his Aunt May if it killed him.

_“Be good, Peter.” His father’s eyes were stern, and unmeasurably sad. Young Peter_ _hadn’t known why._

_“It's not a choice, it's a responsibility.” His uncle’s face. Hurting. Mourning. Angry that_ _he wasn't what Peter needed him to be._

_“Bug boy.”_

_His laugh came out breathy._

_“What did you call me?”_

Fast forward and there was a sickening crunch, and eyes full of life no longer alive. 

Peter could see the faces in front of them, feel the beat-beat of their hearts, hear the soft whoosh of their breath. They may no longer live, but Peter still would fight for their memories. For his father and mother. For his uncle.

For Gwen.

In a split second, Peter changed, every cell powered by determination.

 

It was like a switch had been flipped. One moment, Spider-Man had been struggling to breath, gasping, wheezing, blood splattering the pavement in front of the Avengers. The second Natasha tried to take off the mask, he’d gone crazy.

The Hulk’s roar sounded like ten thousand enthusiastic fans at a football stadium as Spider-Man swung upside-down, flinging Natasha ten feet, straight into a brick wall. There was a sickening crack. Bruce felt queasy. Blood pooled around Natasha’s stomach. 

“Clint, assist Natasha. Tony, Steve, sedate Spider-Man.”

The Other Guy bellowed his outrage against Bruce. He battered Bruce’s mind, pummelling it with his fists. 

Bruce wasn’t sure why the Hulk was so adamant against the vigilante being caught. It was no different from other situations including capture, but the Hulk seemed to take it personally. His sympathy for Spider-Man astounded Bruce. The Hulk was a monster that hated everything and everyone. But maybe, for some strange reason, the Hulk saw Spider-Man outside of everything and everyone. 

Bruce’s task as an Avenger was to keep the world safe, no matter what the Other Guy thought. Spider-Man could be a danger, and for that reason, Bruce would help bring him.

But deep inside himself, Bruce agreed with the Hulk. There were very few good people left on Earth, and treating them like a criminal was wrong. The voice was buried, under orders and demands, and what everybody else believed.

Clint leaped down, bounding from the fire escape. Tony and Steve, meanwhile, approached Spider-Man. Before, Spider-Man had waited for the Avengers to attack before attacking back. Now, he did not hesitate.

He was a ball of ferocity, launching himself at Steve, spinning him in a thick cocoon of web, before moving onto Iron Man. 

Tony launched a row of deadly, heat tracking missiles. They went straight to Spider-Man, and blew up, leaving a cloud of smoke in their wake. 

The smoke cleared. The vigilante lay on the ground, form limp. His suit was blackened in spots, and the amount of blood seeping through had doubled. Iron Man clanked over to the form, and bent down. 

“Cap, get the cuffs. We gotta bring him back to the Tower. I can't wait to see what's behind the mask.” 

“I'd pull it off now,” Bruce recommended. 

“Didn't need to say a thing, Green Bean.”

And then the vigilante was attacking again. 

Tony stumbled back as Spider-Man sprung up, though more slowly this time, favouring his left side. He put his wrists directly against the thin cracks between the neck and the shoulders, earning a garbled cough from Tony as webs flooded underneath the suit. With lightning precision, Spider-Man moved onto his shoulder-arm joints, then his leg body.

Spider-Man disappeared, into the shadows. An ominous, dark voice echoed across the alley.

“Don't confront me again. Unlike you monsters, I've got people I care enough about to keep out of the bloodshed and danger. You hear me? Stay away.”

The masked figure leaped once more, a sloppy, crippled leap, not smooth and graceful like before. Blood through the pavement, down on the cement. Bruce realised then that other than Natasha, the rest of the team was uninjured. Guilt broiled in his stomach. 

The vigilante was met with one more attack before he disappeared. There was twin whisks of air as two arrows left Hawkeye’s bow. One flew out of sight, but the other met its mark. Spider-Man stumbled onto the rooftop, before melting back into the shadows. 

They all watched him go. Then Tony groaned.

“Eye-patch isn't going to be happy.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter in Evasion. Tomorrow, the first chapter in Infiltration will come out. After that, I will update once a week, until I run out of written chapters.

Spider-Man swung from building to building, doing his best to ignore the blinding pain coming from every part of his body. 

People said you should never meet your heroes. Now, Peter understood why. It was disappointing.

Beyond disappointing. Devastating. Ruining. Some of the very foundation he had built Spider-Man on crumbled beneath his feet.

When Iron Man first started saving people, Peter had been just as enthusiastic as the next eleven year old. It was a cool guy wearing a shiny metal suit that flew. His fascination did however, go beyond most tweens his age. Tony Stark was a genius. His work on the arc reactor; affordable, clean energy, was stunning. Not only that, but he was rumoured to have an AI with a personality. 

Now, it all seemed like a hoax. Sure, he’d saved New York and the planet from destruction by alien, but any idiot would, if they could. Tony Stark was supposed to be a hero, worried about humanity. But he’d practically just killed Peter. 

Peter suddenly had the urge to create an A.I better than Tony Stark’s. Maybe he would, and rub it in his face next time they met.

Next time. Yes, there would be a next time. Next time, the Avengers would be more prepared. Next time, they would know what to expect. Next time, they would have the strength and would be prepared to capture him.

Spider-Man would need to be prepared. He didn’t have to beat the super-heroes, just… evade them. Make sure they found out nothing about him, or his family. Peter wasn’t sure how far they would go, but if they dared to threaten his Aunt May… 

Yes, it would be better to stick with evasion, until the Avengers decided he wasn’t worth it. Peter would protect his identity, to protect the people around him. 

Some little rebel part of Peter told him they would always find him worth it.

Belatedly, Peter realized he was on the roof of his house. With a lengthy sigh, he limped in the direction of his window, and swung through, landing in his dark bedroom with barely a thump. He shut his window, and after a second of thought, shut his curtain too. 

His Spidey-sense tingled. Peter whirled around.

In front of him was Gwen, eyes wide with concern. She had a hand over her mouth, and hesitant fingers reaching towards the burn on his suit, where fabric had melted into skin. 

“Oh go away,” Peter muttered.

The hallucination disappeared. He sunk onto his bed and wrapped himself in covers, curling in a ball. Maybe if he shrunk into himself enough, he’d disappear.

Ghosts haunted him, ghosts too real to ignore. Not only did accusing words sometimes line his nightmares, but Peter had started to have hallucinations, at his weakest moments. They begged him to give in, to give up. 

The best tactic Peter had found so far was to distract himself. 

Covers wrapped tightly around him, he slid in front of his computer, and opened up an internet tab. He stared at the Bing logo blankly, mind far away.

The first half of Evasion: Infiltration. 

 

Nick Fury glared down at the Avengers. The word fury could not describe the look on his face. No word could. English simply didn’t have the ability. 

“I’ll admit, I’m disappointed,” Fury ground out through his teeth. 

The world’s Mightiest Heroes had the decency to look ashamed. Tony seemed to have all of his attention focused on the Stark Phone in his hand, eyes looking everywhere but the giant screen in front of him. Steve’s face was more serious than usual, shoulders just the slightest bit stooped. Natasha and Clint… you couldn't really tell, but you got the feeling. 

The only person who didn't seem ashamed was Dr. Banner. His eyes were focused on Fury with an intensity he rarely let show. The man was so still, someone could have mistaken him for a statue. For once, he didn't nervously fidget. Had anyone been paying attention to Dr. Banner, this behaviour should have brought questions.

But nobody was, and so nobody questioned what Dr. Banner seemed so… upset about. 

“Yeah, me too,” Stark said. “It was a pity our super-soldier Capsicle here couldn't do his job properly.”

“Don't try to get out of this, Stark. You're just as much accountable as the rest of the team.” Fury’s voice level slowly rose. “It was one man. One man in spandex and you couldn't even take the mask off!

“He said it wasn’t spandex!” Tony protested.

“We clearly underestimated his skills, Director. I, as leader of the team and on behalf of the team, apologise.” 

“Don't play the noble card with me, Rogers!” Fury thundered. Bruce, in the corner, winced at the volume of his voice. “You better damn-well sure not underestimate his skills again!”

The tone of his voice lowered.

“Look, I don't want to have to bring the vigilante in, but I'm under orders. If I don't do it, somebody will, and they won't care if he's dragged into SHIELD dead or alive. 

Already, I've been required to revalidate the restraining order the NYPD had on Spider-Man, with a few updates. If any civilian sees Spider-Man, they're required to call the police on him. Fail again, and the World Security Council will take it into their own hands.”

He switched his gaze from person to person. 

“I think you all know what happens when they take it into their own hands.” 

There was a grave silence in the room as the Avengers considered his words. 

Captain America finally broke the silence. “We'll do what we have to.”

Fury briskly nodded. “Good.” He left the room with a sweep of his coat.

The Avengers followed shortly after, once again leaving in silence. But this time, there was no cheerful conversation and certainly no laughter. The task set before them seemed like something that went against their moral codes as heroes and protectors of the earth. Doing this to a fellow hero just felt wrong.

No one mentioned this to their teammates. Their determination to erase their wrongdoings and stay on the right side of the law would be their downfall. Nobody would take action.

But there was one considering it. 

Maybe, whatever had made the Hulk constantly angry existed in Dr. Banner. Maybe the same anger that fueled the giant green monster of rage and destruction was lingering beneath the surface of the passive scientist. Maybe, that anger was waiting to show its face for the first time in his life. Maybe protecting a good man from harm would spark it.

But the only signs that this might happen was the unspoken thought that rested in his head.

Bruce Banner left the unassuming building that was the SHIELD base, tapping his fingers nervously against his thigh. He climbed into Stark’s car, ignoring Happy’s polite questions, choosing instead to stare out the window at the dark, glistening streets, illuminated by the fluorescent streetlights lining every major road in the city.

As usual, there was plenty of sights to observe outside the car window. Bruce noticed none of it, instead thinking on everything that had happened. 

As he remembered Spider-Man’s broken, injured voice, lopsidedly flying from the scene, the unspoken thought creeped into his brain.

Should things get any worse, should this mission get any more violent, Bruce Banner might find himself siding with Spider-Man.

The Hulk roared his agreement. For once, Bruce didn’t feel queasy at the thought of being on the same side as the Other Guy.

Maybe he wouldn’t mind getting a little angry.

 

They were hungry.

The problem with information and time is that information is lost over time. After a few years of a person being dead, few people remember their name and after a millennium nobody remembers a dead person. 

People are important. Some may say people are more important than the events that define them and if that is the case, then events are more forgotten than people. 

Which means nobody remembers them. The devourers, the hungry, hungry ones. They had awoken and nobody remembered their name. Nobody remembered how easily they multiplied and spread, then cultivated the land and planted their seeds. Nobody remembered how bountiful they grew during harvest time because there were none left to remember it. 

Not on Midgard. Even if one soul had survived, time would have just erased him anyway.

And so it happened that in the years when humanity had grown to become a busy, sizable planet, that the hungry ones awoke and once again cunningly cultivated their land and planted their seeds to grow the harvest.

Their land was the humans of the planet, their cultivation doubt and their seed division. 

Nobody remembers what the harvest is. But it would be safe to assume that utter destruction was at least a small part of it.


End file.
